Finale

Marisa: What - Thomas! You can't possibly - Thomas: I don't even know what you mean anymore! This is getting out of hand! Marisa: I'm not even going to pretend to know what you're talking about! Thomas: It's not fun, Marisa, even if it ever was, this whole fling - Marisa: How could you? You-- Thomas: Stop. We can't - we can't do this anymore. Marisa. You're right. We can't. (Stepping forwards; Thomas remains frozen) It wasn't always like this. We used to be - we used to be something. I don't even know-- Thomas: Don't pretend, Marisa. (He walks over to the desk, sits down). Marisa: Don't pretend? That's where it started, I suppose. It was us and it wasn't - we were in Central Park and we were laughing and a musician was playing his guitar and we started dancing - and I reached for the skirt of my imaginary ballgown and he said -- Thomas: Don't pretend. Marisa: I thought - I thought he wanted the moment to be real, to be really real, under the stars - Thomas: Marisa. Marisa: and knowing that it wasn't perfect, it was real life, and as close to perfect as we were going to get. But I reached up - Thomas: To my shoulder - Marisa: To pull him in close, to waltz - Thomas (amused, almost condescending): In the dark - Marisa (wistfully): In the dark - Thomas: So I did - Marisa (bitterly): what (Thomas joins her) any man would do - Thomas: I only said - Marisa: All he could say was - Thomas: Don't pretend. Marisa. Marisa: The beginning of the end. A tragedy. Scene two. Thomas: Don't pretend. It's so... so young. (Thomas exits) Marisa: And when we got home from Central Park, every night after that, we'd sit out on the deck and look at the stars... (Marisa sits down on the ground and begins to shiver. Thomas reenters with a large plaid blanket and surrounds her with it. He carefully sits down next to her. Perhaps he wraps an arm around her shoulder. A long silence. Then:) Marisa: What do you think it is? Out there? Thomas: Maybe nothing. Maybe everything. Marisa: But specifically. Thomas: Why? Marisa: I don't know. It's just interesting. You know? In your mind... are there aliens or spaceships? God? Giant burning balls of gas? Endless nothing? Thomas: You're so excited about it. Marisa: I guess. Thomas (looking down at her, perhaps touching her face): You're so young. Marisa (rising abruptly): And I thought it was, it was a compliment. I thought it was, like, eternal youth and God, he would never leave me, I looked younger, prettier, more vivacious, and - Thomas: Like a little kid. On Christmas. (Marisa looks down at him, reentering the scene briefly; perhaps, to show this, she regrips the blanket.) Marisa: Do you like that? Kids, and excitement? And Christmas. Thomas: Christmas. No. I never got into it. Whatever. Marisa: There it was. I was young. Thomas (getting up and returning to his desk): You are young. Marisa: Not always! I'm - Thomas: Immature? Marisa (almost hopefully): In a good way? Thomas (shrugging): Maybe. Marisa: There we went. Again. Ladies and Gentlemen, Act Two. Scene One. The lovers quarrel. Thomas: Don't pretend. You act so young. It's not like you could ever hope to - Marisa: To what, Thomas? (They slip into another scene.) Thomas: Look, Marisa, I'm busy right now. We can talk later. (He picks up the telephone and dials a number. Throughout Marisa's following speech, he is talking in a low mumble on the phone which slowly grows louder near the end.) Marisa: On the phone again, Thomas? (There is no response.) You can't ignore me forever. (Her focus shifts to the audience.) Only, he can ignore me forever, because he's so good at that. Look at that. He's happy. I don't - I don't get it. How can he like that? On the phone, off the phone, on the train, out of the car, up the stairs, down the elevator, around and around and around and around -- oh! (She stumbles and turns back to Thomas, in the scene again.) We're not meant for that kind of life. At least - I'm not meant for that kind of life! (A pause.) Thomas! Thomas, will you please - oh, Thomas! At least look at me! Will you - goddammit! (Marisa runs to Thomas' desk and pushes it backwards. He scoots his chair backwards and keeps on talking more loudly.) Thomas: I keep telling you, Jones, he's not going to make a move. He's too scared. What? No, ridiculous. Marisa: Thomas! Thomas: What? Nothing, no, nothing! Marisa: Thomas, goddammit! Thomas: I don't - no, Mr. Chairman, there's nothing - Marisa: Will you get off the phone, Thomas! We need to - Thomas: Go on, Smith, go on and - Marisa: Talk! (Pause) Thomas: Look, we can - oh, fine! I'll call you back! (He slams down the phone and glares at Marisa.) Marisa! For Christ's sake! I don't understand why you have to - Marisa: I don't understand why you have to. Have to be on the phone all the time, and never around, and Thomas, we can't - Thomas: Look, Marisa, those were important associates! You couldn't possibly - Marisa: Couldn't possibly what. Thomas: Well, it's not like you could ever hope to - Marisa (Outward, to audience, but still almost in the scene; Thomas is frozen): To know how much I love you. That's what he will say. It's not like you could ever hope to know how much I love you, but I have to pay the bills. Watch. I promise. He'll say it. He's not - not like you think, Mother, no, I promise - Thomas: Not like you could ever hope to know such well connected people! Honestly, Marisa, I love you and all that crap, but if you insist on - Marisa (Dwindling to a whisper): He said it, didja hear, Mom, Dad? He said - he loved me. (Thomas freezes, resting on his desk. Marisa comes out in front again.) Marisa: He said - he loved me - it wasn't like that. Not the first time - or the times after, he - Thomas: Marisa. Marisa: Yes. Thomas: (Passionately) I love you. (There is no response. Then again, insistently:) I love you, Marisa. (Again, no response. This time it is an angry, agressive:) Marisa, I do love you, goddammit! (Once again there is no reply. Thomas slumps in his desk. He remains bored for the rest of the love scene and boredly remarks:) I love you. Marisa: Yes. Thomas: Really. Marisa: Uh-huh. Thomas: Truly. Marisa: Forever and always? (Thomas nods.) Like a fairytale. Thomas: Don't pretend. You're so young. It's not like you could ever hope to know - well. That's it, I suppose. Marisa (to audience again): And here we are, folks. The Finale at the corner of Now and Then. (Pause.) Because we went on. We did. We were in love. Thomas (as if dazed): In love. Marisa: There were nights that we were dancing outside and looking at stars and talking, talking for hours, and it was ours - Thomas: Us... Forever and always. Marisa: I knew, Thomas. (There is a pause. Thomas does not seem to understand.) Marisa: I knew, Thomas! I knew from the moment it started going wrong -- knew where it was going and to what end - you have to understand that it wasn't all you, you - Thomas (in yet another scene): Marisa. We need to talk. Marisa: Thomas, I - Thomas: We've been having - Marisa: I never meant - Thomas: Problems, lately, and I've begun to wonder if we - Marisa: To hurt you, or to offend you, and I promise - (The two begin to overlap, their words coming straight on the heels of the other's. They grow louder and louder until they are shouting.) Thomas: Should maybe perhaps take a bit of a - Marisa: Never to just break it off - Thomas: A break, to see - Marisa: Without seeing if you are okay with it - Thomas: Marisa, I don't think you - Marisa: But at the same time you can't think that I will go along - Thomas: We can't just go along pretending that we're - Marisa: With your orders; I can pretend all I want, and you should accept that, since we're - Thomas: We're not alright! Goddammit, Marisa! Marisa: What - Thomas! You can't possibly - Thomas: I don't even know what you mean anymore! This is getting out of hand! Marisa: I'm not even going to pretend to know what you're talking about! Thomas: It's not fun, Marisa, even if it ever was, this whole fling - Marisa: How could you? You-- Thomas: We can't do this anymore! I'm done pretending! We have come too far, and we - Marisa: I'm done not pretending! It's for your sake, you know, and we - (Over the next bit they begin to soften dully, understanding where this is going.) Thomas: We can't - Marisa: Can't possibly - Thomas: Couldn't - Marisa (in a dull whisper): Go on. (A long, very awkward pause.) Thomas: Well, that's it, I suppose. Marisa: That's it. (Thomas goes back to the desk and settles in, pretending to read the newspaper but flicking his eyes over to Marisa, who is attempting not to cry.) Thomas: It was for the best - Marisa: Wasn't it? We both know - Thomas: Fully aware - Marisa: Maybe from the start - Thomas: I brought it up, remember - Marisa: Oh, I do, everyone knew - Thomas: It never - Marisa: Never - Thomas (with a question in his voice): Never possibly could have - Marisa: No. (Silence. They sit, facing forward, for a long moment.) (Blackout.)

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